


Kids in Love

by amelia_vale_official



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Boba Tea, Character Death, Comfort, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fanfiction, First Love, Flash Fic, Fluff, Galaxy Garrison, Jeith - Freeform, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Merchandise, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Pining James, Post War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sweet endings, War flashbacks, Wedding Proposal, Whump, blade of marmora, bubble tea, jaith - Freeform, mutual love, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_vale_official/pseuds/amelia_vale_official
Summary: An eight part one-shot collection in honor of jamesandkeith week on Tumblr.Sept. 10 Competition/Co-operation/ConfessionsSept. 11 Dreams/Nightmares/FantasiesSept. 12 Earth/Sky/SpaceSept. 13 Hoverbike/Fighter/LionSept. 14 Kosmo/Shiro/OtherSept. 15 Pining/Unrequited/MutualSept. 16 Pre-Garrison/Garrison Days/Post WarSept. 17 Free Day/AU/Crossover





	1. Look Back at Me

**Author's Note:**

> Sept. 10: CONFESSIONS
> 
> While brainstorming this fic, I realized that normally it's James who confesses his feelings, so I decided to put my own personal spin on the confession trope. I hope you all enjoy!

It started off as something trivial and pointless, an insignificant sense of admiration born of attention he never received otherwise. Keith was quiet, his eyes were set in an almost constant glare, he chased people away just with his presence. People thought he was weird, and hardly gave him so much as a chance to prove he was more than just some emo kid. No one took him seriously, no one ever addressed him formally, even the principal just talked about him as if he were nothing but a discipline case.

Then there was James Griffin. He didn't see Keith as a quiet emo, and was the only one who ever tried to get through to him. He seemed to take Keith's quiet and withdrawn composure as a challenge, Keith still remembered one of his first days at the school, when they were both still so young, how James quickly assessed Keith's loner status before pointing at him and announcing that they were going to be friends one day whether Keith liked it or not.

Of course that didn't turn out as well as James planned. Keith just kept pushing him away, side lining his attempts at reaching Keith. Even so, he was the only one back then who ever used Keith's name, ever addressed him as "Keith" and not "that emo kid", or "discipline issue", or "pity case", and somehow that stuck with Keith. They weren't friends by any stretch, but Keith held enough respect for James to not outright dislike him.

There were certainly bumps in their acquaintanceship, in their time knowing each other, like the way he lashed verbally at Keith and earned a fist in the face for his trouble, but it steadied after that incident. They passed more pleasant words to each other when they caught each others eyes, even taking the time to give each other advice regarding the simulators and assigned homework.

It never reached anything further than leaning towards each other during classes they shared and whispering idle conversation, "Do you have an extra pencil?" "Stop forgetting your supplies, Keith." It was enough, and Keith found himself slowly, ever so slowly free falling through emotions he wasn't familiar with. A warmth in his chest had sparked and slowly began to overwhelm all his other sensations.

Whenever James would look at him in passing, offer a little nod of acknowledgement, Keith's breathing would hitch in his throat, and he'd have to find an open window to calm down and breathe again. There were two or three times when Keith was passing his homework up to James who sat in front of him in their fighter class, where their fingers would brush accidentally. Keith would start to shake, his hand uncomfortably warm, but after the fourth time, he started to search for that hint of a touch, purposely shoving his hand against James' when passing work up.

None of the emotions made any sense, especially for someone who'd been hiding from said emotions since the moment his father's casket had been lowered into the unforgiving desert ground. Feeling things just hurt him in the end, he didn't want anything to do with them, but now it was like nothing else mattered. He felt, in his heart and his head, he felt when his hand brushed across James'. He felt fucking annoyed, that was for damn certain.

It got so bad that Keith relented in his suffering and reached out to the one person he could. Though it was difficult to get out, sitting in the dirt and sand with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wound around his legs, chin sitting on top of his knees.

"I feel sick to my stomach whenever he's around," he started, lifting his hands to stare at his fingers, "My palms get hot and my fingers tingle and shake. My head gets all light and airy. It's really uncomfortable. My chest gets really tight and my heart beats too fast, enough that I feel like I'm dying or something."

"Hah, I see," Shiro was sitting beside Keith, legs crossed and arms folded across his chest, eyes closed in something like amusement, only proved by the slight upturn of his lips, "Well, I think I can diagnose your symptoms, but you might not like what the doctor prescribes."

"Do I look ten to you?" Keith asked, stretching his legs out and leaning forward to glare up at the pilot beside him, "If you know what's wrong with me, tell me, and tell me how to make it stop, because it's annoying me."

"I gotcha," Shiro assured, turning and holding a hand up with his index pointing at Keith, "I diagnose you with severe crush disorder. I prescribe you confessing your feelings and maybe asking him out."

Keith's jaw dropped and he choked on his tongue for a clumsy moment before managing to make out words, "You want me to fucking what?!"

Shiro laughed when Keith threw a punch into his shoulder, "Okay listen. That breathless feeling you get when you're around him, that's how it started with me when I started to notice my feelings for Adam. I'll say this once. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you breathless like that. Take a chance, don't wait until you think you're ready, because by then it might be too late. You know you like him, right?"

Keith couldn't seem to find the right words, just stumbled over strange noises of confusion and disagreement. Really though, the fact he couldn't even deny it was pretty telling on its own. Shiro wasn't wrong, Keith liked James, and it only took half a day of contemplation to come to the same "diagnosis" that his friend had.

Acting on that realization, on the other hand, was something entirely different. What was Keith even supposed to say? He wasn't good at expressing himself, he wasn't good at handling emotions at all, but what Shiro said stuck with him. If he waited until he was ready, then he could be too late.

Keith tried several approaches, all of which ended up failing. He wrote his confession on a post it note that he stuck to James' textbook when he wasn't looking, but he forgot to sign his name. At one point he even wrote all his admiration into a letter and stuck in under the door jam leading into James' dorm, but he didn't even know if James had gotten that, or if his roommate had swiped it as a joke.

He did everything aside from verbally confessing his feelings, because the one time he tried, he nearly had a panic attack, choking on his breath before darting away. The fact James actually looked concerned for Keith's sudden unexplained freak out made it even more difficult to get the words out. So he just didn't, and he kept them to himself.

Though he did occasionally leave little notes for James, occasionally sticking flowers into his book bag when he left it unsupervised. It was enough to keep his wild emotions in check for the time being while he practiced confessing in the bathroom mirror, over and over again until his roommate told him to shut up and go to bed.

He was almost ready, almost, until Shiro's warning of waiting too long and losing his chance came to pass. The Kerberos mission, watching the launch, Shiro's absence made Keith sick with worry. Everyone noticed of course, that Keith was being far quieter than was normal for him, wasn't getting into fights, was keeping to himself, even turning homework assignments in on time.

James tried to ask him about it, asked if he was okay, and though he certainly wasn't the first to ask, he seemed to be the first who actually cared. Keith reassured him he was okay, and in that moment he was even ready to tell James everything, how worried he was about his friend, but how he was grateful James was reaching out to him; that he liked him, a lot.

Instead, another road block made itself known in the form of pilot error, and Keith's world fell out from under him. He didn't mean to punch Iverson, really he didn't, but the building stress of losing his one and only friend, the one person who seemed to give a damn about him, coupled with the Garrison officers constantly repeating pilot error, pilot error, was too much to bear.

He was booted, of course, and had nothing but the clothes on his back to take with him when he walked out the front door of the Garrison. It was evening, all the cadets were in their dorms, they wouldn't hear of his expulsion until the next morning. Keith didn't expect to see anyone outside, but there was someone standing at the gate, and the orange of their uniform revealed they were a cadet. It wasn't until Keith was almost on top of them that he recognized who it was, and by then they'd picked up on the sound of Keith's footsteps, head rolling to the side to eye him off.

There was no surprise at seeing Keith there, but there was something along the lines of disappointment, and Keith hesitated, not speaking a single word as they just stared at each other. After a short moment, James turned his head away to look back at the horizon and the sun setting in the far distance.

"So they booted you?" he asked, and Keith dropped his head, hunching his shoulders defensively, his right hand clinging to the strap of the duffel bag on his back, "Yea, I... kind of overheard the teachers talking when I was in the library."

"It's past curfew, isn't it?" Keith asked, "You should be in your room already."

James hummed, not meeting Keith's eye as he dropped his arms from where he'd folded them across his chest, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and searching around before pulling out a folded piece of paper. He stared down at it before carefully unfolding it, but continued to stay silent as he flicked the edge of it.

"Listen, Keith... maybe I can talk to Iverson for you. You're at the top of the class, all of the classes, they'd be crazy to get rid of you like this," he tore his eyes from the paper to look over at Keith, "Besides, I kind of owe you, you know? For that thing..."

Keith swallowed down the lump in his throat, shaking his head, "You know what I'm like. Nothing's going to change if I stay here. I have to leave...," he felt his entire body chill, "There's nothing left for me here, or on Earth at all."

James pushed off the wall to face him, something along the lines of frustration on his face, but also pain, "Let me help you. If you have nothing, then let me help you. Shirogane's not the only one who saw potential in you!"

Keith stared at the toes of his shoes, feeling lonely despite the fact that James was standing there in front of him, and he felt a wistful smile take to his lips as he clung to his bag.

"Thank you... but... right now I think I need to leave. I think it's the best thing for me, I just... need to think. I need to be alone."

"But... Keith, you're not-."

"Before I go, though, can I say something?" Keith interrupted, and James gave a deep sigh, shoulders sagging, "It's just... I see now that I've wasted a lot of time pitying myself and being scared of rejection. Shiro told me not to wait too long, because if I did then I would just lose my chance, and I guess I technically have, but... I guess that just means I have nothing else to lose, so...," he lifted his head to look at James, who was watching him uneasily, "I like you. I have for a while now. I mean, a long while, like ever since we were in middle school. Also when I say I like you I mean-."

"I know," James was the one to interrupt this time, and Keith narrowed his eyes a bit, though they shot wide when James held out the small sheet of paper he'd been carrying, "All these years of seeing your homework and you really think I wouldn't recognize your handwriting? You're a real idiot."

Keith bristled dangerously at that, eyes burning with anger as his face burned with embarrassment, responding the best way he knew how and leaning forward, lashing out, "So you knew this whole time, and what, you were just playing me? Stringing me along and making fun of me? Laughing at me behind my back when you're with your fucking friends, is that it?!"

"You need to take a minute and control your anger!" James snapped back, relaxing substantially before continuing, "I haven't shown anyone or told anyone, I... needed time to think about it for myself, but... there's nothing wrong with it, you know that, right? I mean I k-kinda might return your feelings anyway, so it's fine," Keith didn't have a chance to react before James was adding, "So you're wrong when you say you have nothing left here! You have me!" he stuck the paper out, waiting for Keith to take it.

It was worn from being folded and unfolded so often, one of the first things he'd written and stuck into James' bag. Cheesy, stupid, a confession of "I like you, and I want to go out with you," in Keith's handwriting. Right beneath it was another line of text, one he hadn't put there, one that made him choke on nothing as he read it.

I like you too, let's go out sometime.

"I'll talk to Iverson," James repeated, and Keith clung to the paper with both hands, "I'll convince him to give you another chance, we can work through this together. I'll help you, Keith, you're not alone. We can keep studying, keep training, enter the Garrison as pilots and teachers once we've graduated into officers. You're not alone, and there is a reason for you to stay here."

Keith didn't even know how to really feel at that point. He was tired. Emotionally exhausted and drained from everything that had happened. He could still feel it, the love and care he held in his heart, something reserved only for James, but at this point, he didn't think he'd be able to open up and love James the way he deserved.

"I... I need time, James. Please," Keith said softly, "I need to be alone, to think, I just... I can't be with you the way I am now. I need time to think through everything."

Silence answered him, and for a horrible moment Keith felt like sobbing, because he really had missed his chance. All this time he could've been with James, but he'd wasted it lamenting over how to confess, before wasting even more time mourning Shiro before he'd even been confirmed... gone. Was it really too late?

"Will you ever come back?" James asked, and Keith tensed, folding the paper up and holding it back out for the other cadet to take.

"I don't know."

James reached out and pushed Keith's hand closer to his chest, "Keep it," he said, and Keith felt his heart jump in panic before James quickly continued, "as a reminder. A promise. I'll wait for you."

Keith took a shuddering inhale, holding the page to his chest, "What if it takes too long? What if it takes years?"

"That's fine," James assured, "I've waited this long, you know. I can wait one or two more years," Keith almost, almost smiled, eyes pinching closed as James leaned towards him and brushed a kiss to his right cheekbone, then stepped past him, a hand squeezing his upper arm, "Come back as soon as you can, okay? I'll take you on a date to Plaht City, how's that sound."

"Plaht City?" Keith's voice broke at that, fighting the burn in his eyes, "Okay. Yea. Plaht City. I'll hold you to that promise."

"And I'll hold you to the promise that you'll come back. Better be ready, I'll be a fully realized pilot by the time you get back, so don't be too surprised."

Keith finally smiled at that, turning his head to look back at James, "Good. Keep studying and training. I know you'll be a good pilot. The best the Garrison has ever seen."

"I'll see you soon," he reached a hand back, and James reached over with his own, without looking, hooking his fingers with Keith's.

"Yea. You better."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"One or two years," Keith paused in his steps, fingers biting into the surface of his red accented paladin's helmet, hesitating before turning to look at who was standing in the hall behind him; James, "We made a promise, but you... might not remember it. Thought I'd ask anyway."

Keith watched him silently before turning his head away, staring at the wall before dropping his head and searching around inside the helmet, slipping a folded piece of paper from inside the lining and holding it out towards James, who hesitated visibly before taking a step closer.

He unfolded the paper Keith handed to him, a grin breaking over his face with an anxious laugh, flush crossing his cheeks pink and shaking his head before meeting Keith's eye. The smile wavered and he reached out to cup the side of Keith's face, thumb brushing the scar marring the skin there and leading Keith closer.

"It's been like six years."

"And you waited for me?" Keith tested, not moving away when James set their foreheads together.

"Guess I'm an idiot like that."

"Yea," Keith laughed out the word, "You definitely are."


	2. Hush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sept. 11: NIGHTMARES
> 
> I don't really like how this came out, idk. I didn't have much time to edit and rewrite a lot because I slept in this morning since I didn't get to sleep until one and had work at five, and I woke up late so I had to rush. So hopefully tomorrows will be better. Later on when I can concentrate like I want to, I might rewrite this or make a 2.0 version. Regardless, I hope you enjoy.

"Stay close to me, we don't know what to expect," the words in James' throat felt weird, weighed down, as he crouched down in the dirt outside the hulking and eerily accented black and purple Galra facility, looking over his shoulder towards is three teammates. They were all armed, the lines in their faces set in determination and concentration.

This was supposed to be an easy mission, simple, but the air smelt heavily of iron and rot, metal and oil, and it had James raising an arm above his mouth and nose, squinting his watering eyes as he rose to his feet and moved forward. There was a clock ticking away in his head as he strode forward in stale confidence, knowing that his team would follow. They trusted him after all, he'd never strayed them wrong before, and he'd spent hours, days prior to the mission, planning every last insignificant detail until it made him sick.

It would be an easy go, he knew that, but he was left in complete shock when the facility doors swished open and his vision blacked out. The noise in his ears was muffled, and he tightened his grip on the gun in his hands as he swung back and forth with wide eyes, trying to see the interior of the facility. He couldn't see a damn thing, though, so he felt himself panic, calling out to his team.

"Rizavi! Kinkade! Leif! Regroup and retreat!" he didn't get the responses that he wanted, no sass snapped at him from Nadia or Ina coaxing him into continuing the mission with a fact on why he'd gone blind and why it was fine, or the confirmation of comprehension in the form of a grunt from Ryan.

He got nothing, and suddenly he was blinded by a flash of white light, coiling in on himself and pulling an arm up to shield his face, peeling his eyes open after a moment to find himself outside, back at the Garrison, the sun beating down on him, gun still in his hands. There were rows and rows of seats set up, laced with black ribbon and red spider lilies, and the stage at the front was weighed down with three portraits wreathed with lilies, gladioli, and hydrangeas.

The gun in his hands was suddenly heavy, and he uncurled his fingers to let it fall to the ground, the object hitting the dirt with a wet splash that had him tensing, shoulders trembling as he curled his hands into fists, slowly, fearfully turning his head to cast his gaze to his feet. His stomach lurched up into his throat and caught on the startled scream as he staggered backwards, arms flailing to grab onto the chairs to one side of the aisle.

Dirt and sand and dust was stained crimson with splashes and puddles of thick blood. James' breathing quickened as he looked around frantically, pushing away from the chair and lifting his hands in front of his face, his panic increasing when his eyes caught the sight of dried blood beneath his nails and smeared across his fingers, set into the lines in his palms.

"James," the voice that addressed him was unearthly, gravely, and instinct dragged him away from its source, staggering over the blood slicked ground and towards the stage at the front of the rowed seats, stumbling as he reached it and dragging himself onto it, nails digging into the wood and cracking as he hauled himself up, before getting to his feet, freezing when he realized what exactly the set up was for.

A memorial service, and the three officers they were honoring were... his. His team. Ina, Ryan, Nadia, their faces immortalized within stained frames and pressed beneath glass. James' head spun as he stepped up to the closest stand and photograph, touching the surface with blood stained fingers and smearing red across Ryan's brow before jerking his hand back.

"James," that voice again, and his back went rigid as he started to turn, choking when he managed to face the front.

Each seat was occupied with Garrison cadets and officers, some he recognized, some he didn't, with their heads lifted and eyes locked on him. There were no expressions, just dead eyes and pale skin, and James staggered back as a deep voice rumbled.

"A mission gone wrong, complications arose," he turned his head sharply to see Iverson standing at the microphone, hands on the stand, "Our hearts will not soon forget this pain, and we will honor these fallen pilots with every breath we take. It's only right we continue to live in order to respect them, but I can't help but wonder," his head turned, a glassy eye met James', "Why there aren't four memorials up here, instead of just three."

"What did you do, Officer Griffin?"

He jerked around to see Sam Holt standing on the stage, and opened his mouth to whisper, "What? I didn't... do anything. No, there's no way, no way I would let my team die! Not like this! I planned for days before the mission, I had everything set out!"

"Plans go astray sometimes," that voice broke him more than Sam's had, and he turned a weary head in Keith's direction to see him standing at the edge of the stage, "You're always so uptight, James. Look at what you did," James dropped his eyes to his stained hands, they still seemed heavy, the blood still hot and wet, fingers trembling as he gaped at Keith again.

"I would never do this, please. I didn't mean to. This is a joke, where's my team?" Keith just shut his eyes, and James took a few threatening steps towards him, "Where the hell is my team?!"

Keith's eyes opened and James jerked back at the blood red sclera, thick red tears pooling before cutting down his face, lips parting to release a rush of blood that stained his chin and neck, dampening the front of his shirt in seconds before his knees buckled.

"Keith!" James lunged forward to wrap his arms around Keith before he could hit the ground, craddling him awkwardly as he lowered himself to his knees, which soaked through from blood he couldn't even see, "No, don't do this. Stop, come back, I'm sorry!"

"James...," Nadia's voice had him jerking his head up, once again in the Galra facility, violet lights flickering and broken sentries scattered around the floor.

His three teammates were lying on the ground in front of them, close to one another, as if they didn't want to die alone, blood staining their clothes and pooling around their unmoving bodies, rips and tears in their uniforms. Ina looked so small curled up with her head against Ryan's ribs, hair shielding her face, pale color making the stains of blood far too striking. Nadia's face was turned in his direction, the lenses of her glasses cracked to distort her eyes, which were open, against the gray and yellow of her skin and the blood crusting the corners of her mouth, which moved as if her jaw needed to be oiled.

"Help us... please... it hurts...."

"Nadia," James whispered, looking down to find Keith still in his arms, unresponsive, placid; all forms of dead, "No, no, no."

"He-help... please... James..."

"NO! No, I'm sorry!" James screamed, he broke, he carried Keith unceremoniously over to the rest of his team and fell back to his knees, curling over the unresponsive paladin and pinching his eyes closed tight, keeping one arm curled beneath Keith's shoulders as he reached out the other, attempting to hold all of them, cling to their clothes, ending with himself draped over them, mouth open in a scream.

An apology came tumbling from his lips as he sobbed and shook, begging for his team to come back, begging them not to be dead, his body heavy with guilt and his head nothing but slush as he screamed in distress. Not even the hands that grabbed his shoulders could shake him from his pain.

It wasn't until the floor fell from beneath him, his grasp on his team, his family, failing as they disappeared from his arms and he fell that he jerked upright with a short cry. His body felt cold and heavy with sweat, hair hanging in his eyes and obscuring his already blurred vision. His hands raised to slap onto his face, digging the heel of both palms into his eyes as he sucked in deep, long breathes, relieving the burn in his chest so he could sigh out, shoulders trembling in sudden intervals, breath catching on a hiccup every so often while large, lazy tears continued to heat his cheeks.

"James?" the voice that called him was soft yet cautious, as was the hand that settled onto his shoulder.

He flinched, but slowly let himself relax as he grew more conscious and aware of where he was. At the Garrison, in his dorm room, in his bed, after a hard days work with his team, who were all safe. God he hoped they were safe. Keith was kneeling beside the bed, concern heavy in the set furrow of his brow. He was still half dressed in his paladin armor, though the chest and gauntlets had been removed, showing he'd been in the process of dressing down for bed before James had somehow interrupted him.

"Keith... what time is it?"

"Past midnight," Keith answered, squeezing James' shoulder and leaning back on his heels, "Are you okay?"

"I-yea. I'm fine," James lied, and Keith's frown seemed to deepen as he stood up to remove the rest of his armor, leaving him in only the black undersuit, "You're, uh... getting back late."

"Training ran past due," Keith explained, "The simulation mom programmed kicked our asses and she wouldn't let us leave until we'd beat it at least once."

"Oh..."

"Here," Keith tossed a clean shirt onto the bed as he reached for the zip on the back of his neck to undo the black suit, "Change. You could get sick sleeping in your own sweat."

"Ah," James cringed and picked at the front of his nightshirt, which was heavy and damp.

Honestly he wanted to take a shower, but he was exhausted, so relented to simply stripping the ruined shirt and changing. He balled the old one up and threw it into the hamper beside the door, then looked over at Keith, who was setting his helmet on the desk before turning, fully clothed in sleepwear and joining James on the bed.

James laid back down and scooted towards the wall so Keith had enough room to slide beneath the covers next to him, and for a moment they laid in silence. James just stared at the ceiling with his arms folded over his stomach and his hands clenched in the sheets there, until Keith shifted around and rolled onto his side to face him.

"Have you calmed down a bit more?"

"Huh?"

"You know you're awake? Safe? In our room?" James choked a little, tensing, and Keith eased closer, head falling against James' shoulder, "It's okay. Tell me what happened."

"Just... a bad dream."

"What kind of bad dream? Memory?"

"No, just...," James trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain everything.

Nightmares weren't uncommon between the two of them. Keith had them more often than James did, and they were bad enough that the first time James tried to help, he'd struck out and busted the pilot's lip. It took them both a bit of personal research to understand that when your partner was having a nightmare wrought by PTSD, you had to let them wake up and calm down on their own.

If they were lucky, they'd fall asleep immediately after their breathing had regulated, and wouldn't even remember their nightmare in the morning, but there were times, like this one, where they couldn't get back to sleep.

Normally when James had his nightmares, he didn't remember them. He was the one who woke himself up in a panic before flopping back and passing out almost immediately. Keith was more often than not the one who woke from his nightmares and paced because he couldn't wind back down. Situations like that, James would just hold Keith tightly so he felt safe and secure, and usually that helped.

He rolled onto his side, a shiver running down his spine, and Keith held his arms out, letting James wrap his arms around his waist and hide against Keith's shoulder with a huff, "I'm worried. We managed to make it through three years of war, but so many times I could have messed up and lost my team. I can't do it, Keith. What if I'm not as good a leader as I like to think I am? If I ever lead my team into a situation where they were hurt, or worse-."

"Easy, striker, do you really think you'd ever get them hurt?" Keith lifted a hand to card his fingers somewhat roughly through the back of James' hair, "Look, accidents will happen, and there are casualties in war, but don't ever think that makes you a bad leader. Your team adores you, they trust you with their lives, and even if they did get hurt on a mission, they would probably blame themselves before even thinking of blaming you," he hugged James tighter, "Saying that probably won't help much, you'll still beat yourself up over nothing and have guilt fueled nightmares, but you're not alone, okay? I'm afraid of the same things."

James just sighed and shut his eyes again, "Right. Thanks. Can I maybe stay like this?"

"Yea," Keith hand lessened to rough petting into a gentle caress through his hair, "You've helped me through plenty of nightmares before, it's only fair I let you do the same. Sleep."

James hummed, rubbing his face against Keith's chest, "Thanks, babe. I was probably just missing this, that's why I had a nightmare."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"I'm trying to trick you into not working late."

"Bullshit, if you can cop out of sleeping early because of mission plans and paperwork, I can for paladin simulations and training. Now shut up before I decide to draw on your face as soon as you fall asleep."

"Prick."

"Bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTSD is very hard to write about for people who have not experienced it for themselves, so please do your research before hand. If you're writing about your couple, and person A is having a trauma and ptsd induced night terror, and person B shakes them awake, and person A cries and whimpers and cuddles against person B, IT IS GROSSLY INACCURATE. Nine times out of ten, they won't even remember their nightmares. And nightmares do not replay the moment of trauma over and over like a movie. Normally trauma night terrors reflect the emotions you felt during the time of trauma. Guilt, fear, etc. You most likely won't see the event in detail. This is a really short description, but again, please do your research, and take care of yourselves.


	3. That's the Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sept. 12: EARTH
> 
> When Jeith week gives you an Earth prompt, you write about a fluffy day out date on Earth! This was fun to write and I like how it came out a LOT better than the last one I wrote. Not to mention I feel as if the title is very much warranted~ Enjoy!

His hair had been tediously pushed back with water acting as gel, but it didn't look right. James reached over to the hand towel and dried off the drops, brushing it straight. Nope, that didn't look right either. Pushed behind his ears, absolutely not. He took a few menial minutes to braid the side, and muffled a scream into the folded up hand towel before tearing it out of the knot and ruffling both hands through it.

This was happening, it was scheduled and planned and it was actually happening. James went through his check list obsessively in the days leading up to his first task, shoving the paper into Kinkade's hands and asking him to review it thoroughly like he was a professor grading a thesis.

Ryan had taken one look at the paper before his face sagged in disbelief, handing it back with a tiny shake of his head, "This is why no one sat with you in chemistry class."

Firstly, that was rude, James liked being organized, that was nothing to be bagged on about! Second, now he had no one to turn to for confirmation that his list was an accurate representation of how a first date was supposed to play out.

So he had to just run with it and hope for the best.

He found a cart florist on one of his peace missions through the newly rebuilt Plaht City and purchased a bouquet of white Gardenias, because according to Ina, they signified a secret love, and James didn't want to be too overbearing in his courting. He then picked up a small box of chocolates, because everyone liked chocolates, and set about finding the object of his affections.

Even after he found him though, James got cold feet all of three times. It wasn't his fault, he just couldn't seem to find the right moment. The honored Black Paladin was just... never alone long enough to propose an outing, and God knew if James were to ask Keith out when his team was around, they'd somehow weasel their way into it, and they'd never be able to enjoy one on one time.

James knew this because his team was the same God damn way.

The first time he found Keith, he was standing in the hall with Shiro and the Galra named Krolia (James heard rushing water in his ears when he remembered Keith introducing her as his mother), who was holding out a tablet. They seemed to be discussing something important, considering three leaders of three important factions had come together to converse.

James, being leader if the MFE's (though they always teased him "yea you're not the leader" in good fun, they were still his squadron), figured he had a right to pop himself into the conversation, that he would be welcomed as another leader, but the idea of trying to court Keith with A) Commander Shirogane watching and worse B) his fucking alien mother probably judging him, made him feel woozy.

So he backed away and decided to wait for another opportunity.

His second chance was when he found Keith eating alone in the mess hall. He was pleased to see he was actually eating, as he hadn't seen him eat much at all since he woke up from his coma, and also smug that the hall was entirely empty aside from the paladin. It was the perfect chance, but when James tried to walk forward, Lance showed up from the door across the room, and James jerked behind the wall with a soft curse.

Of course HE just had to show up, face brightening as he sauntered over to Keith and sat himself down across from him. As if he had a right to get that close to Keith. Okay, maybe James was thinking irrationally from jealousy, and misplaced jealousy at that, but he couldn't help being annoyed that this idiot had foiled his plans.

He shuffled away dejected, not noticing when Keith cast a glance over his shoulder back towards the door, a frown on his lips.

"Are you listening, man?"

"... yea..."

Third times a charm, but it was a bad luck charm, so James should've known. He shuffled his feet down the hall, looked up to see Keith standing with Matt Holt, and just huffed through his nose before continuing on his way, looking for a trashcan to dump his stupid to-do list in.

He passed them, but they didn't stop talking or show they'd heard him approach at all, which was the perfect unspoken insult to add salt into his wounds, but he had turned the corner by the time he actually heard their voices.

"Just remember you're not alone, Keith, and there are people who would miss you, people who would mourn you, if you were to do something like you did on Naxzela."

"It took you a while to bring it up again, I actually figured you'd forgotten."

"I'm not gonna forget when a team member tries to sacrifice himself."

"I get it, you don't have to worry so much about me. That was a long time ago, I'm different now."

"Yea, well, color me suspicious, but I'm still gonna worry. Just look... things are different now. It's not just Shiro who's there for you anymore. You have me, my parents and Pidge, the other Paladins, your mom and the rest of the blades. That's more than you've ever had before, and all of them care about you."

"More than I ever thought I'd get, that's for sure..."

James felt dizzy as he continued down the hall, wondering what the hell Naxzela was, what Matt meant by that "sacrifice" thing, which didn't sound too great. The tone of their voices had him reaching into his pocket and clinging to the list he'd folded up and stowed away, locking his jaw.

Having friends, having family, was more than Keith ever thought he would get. It was basic necessity to at least have friends, and Keith never allowed himself to even wash in the fantasy of having such things.

James wasn't giving up. Keith deserved more, so much more, and James was going to provide all of it.

It was past midnight, the Gardenias were starting to wilt and James was pretty sure the box of chocolates had melted. He should've been in bed, but he was searching the halls for one last chance. One he found in the abandoned training area.

Keith was sitting on a bench in sweats and a sleeveless shirt, hunched over with his hair tied back and watching as he wrapped bandages around his own knuckles. It was late to be training or working out, but James had no right to scold him when he did the same things.

Especially if he couldn't sleep.

"Hey," he called out to Keith, who paused in his wrapping but didn't raise his head, "You're up... early."

Keith hummed and continued his work, having assessed who was in the room, not like he thought it would be anyone else.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Yea, no problem. I mean yea, problem, but I mean, I do this too when I can't sleep."

"That why you're here?" Keith asked, taking one end of the towel around his neck and patting away the sweat on his face.

James cleared his throat to choke down the knot that had formed there and looked down at the sorry excuse for a bouquet. Now that he was there, alone with Keith, suddenly he could feel his palms start to sweat.

What was he even doing? What were the odds of this going in his favor? Keith, he'd always been an enigma, someone James was incapable of predicting. He was like the sun, if you looked at him too long you'd get blinded, either from his sheer talent and capability, or from the spit fire decking you in the face. The latter was most likely to happen, and had happened before. James had seen it happen to other people, and it had happened to him.

He could almost feel the phantom ache in his jaw still.

This affection, James realized, had been building in his chest for years now. Ever since high school when Keith dominated at the Garrison's flight simulation, to test the abilities of possible recruits. Keith had always been nothing much, a shadow at the back of the room, someone who talked so little that people started rumors he was brain dead.

Then he burst from that emo shell and showed something he was talented at, showed their whole class that he could succeed at something. James would be lying if he said he hadn't been impressed, that someone who'd never shown promise before had suddenly revealed himself to be a prodigy.

Unfortunately, stealing a car right after showed that he still had a long, long way to go. Even if James thought stealing a car was pretty cool, it was still against the rules; and kind of illegal, which was really bad.

Yet even with that bit of red marker on Keith's ledger, James still found himself falling hard. Or, maybe that wasn't the right way to describe it, because he didn't even realize his affections until later in the Garrison.

He didn't realize it until Keith was gone, which was ironic and cruel in every way possible. That he came to the conclusion he was in love only after he'd lost his chance.

Or so he thought, but here Keith was again, safe after the strain of war, returned fresh from the crushing nothingness of space and an intergalactic war he had no responsibility to fight in; and he was like a daydream coming true.

Keith was different. Still quiet, still as unapproachable as ever, yet there was a maturity to him that he didn't used to have. He'd mellowed out, he was a seasoned pilot, a warrior. He was calm and defined and, God, he was even better, and James wanted him even more.

"Hello?" Keith called, waving a hand to get James' attention, as he'd been silently staring at Keith for a few solid minutes.

His face burned and he swallowed thickly, clearing his throat and hesitated, pulling out the Gardenias from behind his back and presenting them. A few white petals shook loose of the bouquet, drifting through the air and settling on the floor, a few catching on Keith's sweatpants, more in his hair, and the speckles of white stuck in his black hair like snowfall or stars.

Keith appeared fully taken aback, lifting his hands up as if trying to catch the petals, gaping at the few that settled in his palms before lifting his surprised eyes to James, who was glaring at him. It wasn't the best expression, it wasn't soft or adoring, but it was so entirely James.

Keith was someone to respect, to strive to be like in skill and prowess. Asking him out was a challenge that James was walking into head on. This was a stand down between two of the best pilots in the Garrison, and James had no intentions of backing down. It was a test of wills.

For a long time Keith just stared directly at the flowers, before his brow curved and he lifted his gaze to James, "What?"

"They're for you. As a gift," James said simply, and Keith lifted his hands higher, hesitated visibly, and finally reached out to take the bouquet.

His fingers brushed the back of James' hand, clammy and warm from his workout, and James had to hold his breath to keep from making a strange noise.

"What are... what's it for?" Keith asked, holding the flowers carefully, "Oh. You're thanking me or something?"

"Huh?" James uttered, cradling the back of his hand, and Keith looked at him again.

"You're not the first person to give me flowers in thanks for aiding in the war," then looked away just in time to not see James' face crunch up in annoyance, "All of us have gotten gifts and flowers, gift baskets. I, uh... don't really keep any of them, but... I guess I could hunt down a vase or something."

James still didn't know how this conversation had taken such a left turn, so he ended up just murmuring, "Huh?" again.

Keith shrugged, lifting a hand to delicately touch one of the soft flower petals, "I don't really have any use for it all, so I give it to the other paladins or my mom. It's not like I pilot the Black Lion for glory, that kind of thing makes me... uncomfortable. So... but I mean, thank you. You're the last person I expected to thank me, so I'll try to take care of them."

"Wha- no!" James stepped closer, "That's not what this is, moron! I'm not thanking you! I mean I am, thank you, but that's not what the flowers are for!"

Keith blinked before his face drew in and he scowled, "Well what the hell are they for, then?"

"Well if you were smarter you'd realize I'm trying to ask you out!" James snapped out the response, and Keith's face contorted into an expression of stunned disbelief.

It took James a minute to comprehend he'd blurted that, while his original plan was to softly offer a day out. It was done now, though, so he huffed through his nose and yanked the small box of chocolates from his pocket, handing it to Keith, who reached out cautiously to take it.

"Are you free Wednesday? Go out with me."

Keith opened his mouth, nothing came out, so he closed it and looked down at the flowers. It seemed he was having an internal struggle with himself, clearing his throat a few times and touching the petals a second time.

"Uh, I don't...," he stopped, and his eyes became faraway, before his cheeks became softly flushed, "This Wednesday?"

The way he'd started to speak, the hesitance in his voice, made James think he was going to say no, and he was preparing for the rejection. The rejection that didn't come. Keith definitely looked nervous or out of his comfort zone, but instead of saying no, he asked for a specification.

"Yea, this Wednesday."

Then there was another moment of silence, until Keith's body relaxed substantially, and he shrugged loosely, "Yea, sure."

"Really?" James asked, "Wait, really?"

"Yea."

"You'll go out with me?"

Keith shrugged again, "Yea."

"Okay," James held his hands out, "I just want to be clear, you do know that this is a date, right? Like we're going out, on a date."

"That's sort of what I figured."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Why not?" Keith glanced over at James before looking down again, "It's not like I hate you."

That might've been the best thing he could have said, that he didn't hate James, and it was those words that had him so excited the following Wednesday as he fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror.

Dressed as casually as he could without seeming like he was trying too hard, in a simple white tshirt with a maroon over shirt buttoned up, the collar folded down. Blue jeans held with a brown belt and his boots. He figured he looked pretty good, and gave himself a thumb up in the mirror.

"I'll be back late," he said when he went back into his dorm room, picking up his coat and wallet, "Don't wait up for me."

"I won't," was Kinkade's easy reply, and James cast him a narrow eyed look at where he was sitting with a book.

No time to call him out on it, though, since it was almost time to meet Keith out in the garage. James had his Garrison dune car keys in his hand, expecting to drive them like the gentleman he was.

He was throwing his keys up and catching them, his other hand in his pocket and his coat hanging over his arm. When he caught sight of Keith waiting, though, he fumbled for his keys, which seemed to fall through his hand and hit the ground with a clang.

James figured he'd been the only one worrying over his appearance, but it legitimately appeared as if Keith had put thought into his outfit. He'd never seen the paladin in casual dress, only ever his cadet uniform and paladin armor.

Now, he was wearing a black short sleeved shirt, skinny black jeans, boots that reached his knees and were accented with red colors, his hair tied back and goggles hanging around his neck. A black leather jacket was draped over the handlebars of the hoverbike he was leaning against, holding an orange phone up, but he lifted his eyes when he heard James drop his keys.

They stared at each other for a long time, long enough for James to see Keith's ears turn pink and drop his eyes, turning.

"Ready?"

"Uh, oh, yea," James ducked down and grabbed his keys, freezing when he stood straighter to watch Keith grab the jacket and pull it on, throwing one leg over the hoverbike, "Wha-what are you doing? I was going to drive us."

"Yea, but...," Keith shrugged, "It's been a while since I drove one of these. Is it okay?"

"Yea, no worries," James said, his voice cracking, feeling his heart jump in his chest when Keith held out a second pair of goggles.

"Here, and hold on."

James had sat himself down behind Keith and pulled the goggles on before he felt himself almost ask "to what", but stopped himself, hands hovering over Keith's waist.

He didn't grab him at first, just listened to the sound of the engine turning, jerking back as it started forward. That's when he grabbed Keith, out of necessity so he wouldn't fall off (that would've been very attractive), not that he didn't think about holding him around the waist almost all the time.

It was nice, really nice. Keith was warm, his waist was slim, but James could feel muscle beneath his hands, exercising incredible self control by not stroking his fingers along those muscles. He really wanted to, but that was moving too fast.

This was their first date, and it might not even go well. It was likely that Keith would get mad at him halfway through the day and ditch him in Plaht, forcing James to walk all the way back to the Garrison, thus ending any possible relationship that could be between them.

So because he wanted this, whatever it was, to last, he just held on as loosely as he could, keeping just enough grip on Keith so he didn't roll backwards off the back of the bike. Again, an absolutely wonderful start to their date.

Plaht City was bustling when they drove into it, as it normally was these days. Alien refugees and human citizens who'd survived the war had built up a coexisting community, the first alien settlement on earth to symbolize their alliance with other planets.

There were booths of food, earth food that James was familiar with, and alien foods that he wrinkled his nose at, though Keith seemed familiar enough with it all, even pointing at a few remarkably strange looking items and naming them for James.

"That tastes like a pomegranate, but a little spicy. That one tastes like chicken. Hunk really likes that, and Lance likes that because he says it tastes like garlic knots. Aren't garlic knots just garlic bread? I asked him and he got offended. Yelled at me in Spanish and huffed off."

James nodded his head furiously at everything, even though he only understood a fraction of what Keith was saying, while the other half of the time he was just dumbstruck that Keith was talking at all. He still held himself around James somewhat cautiously, like he was treading on thin ice, or figured any side tossed statement could put them on tense terms, but he was talking.

And he seemed to be enjoying himself, which had been one of James' initial concerns. That Keith would be bored, lose interest, or that he'd assume James was trying to get something out of him when all he wanted was a connection, to see Keith loosen up around him.

The day went well, neither started an argument, James didn't even feel like he was being put on the spot or challenged. The only time he felt a spark of their former rivalry was when they had lunch. They argued for a bit about who would buy food, but after a bit, Keith seemed to calm down and relent, arms folding stubbornly across his chest and looking James dead in the eye.

"If you buy, I get to pick what to eat."

James agreed, but didn't have any idea of how big a mistake he'd made until they sat down and Keith revealed his chosen cuisine, which appeared to be some unnatural alien meat with a side of... fruit, maybe.

"What is this?" James asked, sitting across from Keith, who was already using a toothpick to stab into cubes of space meat, dipping them in some kind of unnamed and clearly not earth born sauce that was green and way too thick, like mashed up caterpillar or something.

"It's meat," was his clear answer, holding out the cube he'd been just about ready to eat, "Here, try. It's good."

"Right, and what animal did it come from?"

Keith looked at the cube of meat, lips in a pout, "Well, who cares?" it sounded like a question and that was certainly suspicious, "While we were travelling, we learned to just not question it. So long as it tastes edible and nutritious, we ate it. Plus, Hunk can cook really well and make anything taste good," he held the cube closer to James' face, right against his lips, "Just taste it."

James grit his teeth and stared down at the cube of meat, slowly taking it from Keith and sniffing it. It smelt the barest bit like teriyaki chicken, so he took a tiny bite. His suspicions were confirmed, it absolutely tasted like a blend of pastrami and chicken doused in honey and teriyaki sauce. Honestly it was amazing, so James stuck the whole thing into his mouth and shrugged with his hands.

Keith grinned, and James felt entirely too pleased with himself for bringing that expression, but at the same time, the smile looked smug. It wasn't until they were finished that Keith actually revealed what they'd eaten was meat from some kind of giant space bug found on Olkarion. James nearly threw up, until he reminded himself how honestly delicious it had been. So he ate a bug, so what? No one could say he was a coward now at least.

"My turn," James decided, because although he was okay with eating a bug, he still felt the need to one up Keith, if only for fun.

He was holding out two chilled to-go cups with straws stuck through the tops, and Keith squinted at them suspiciously as he took one, "What's this?"

"Tea," James answered, one hand propped against his hip and looking far too satisfied in himself, "Milk tea to be specific. It's good. Never had it?" Keith shook his head, and James smiled his own smug smile, "Good, this should be fun then."

Keith just hummed, staring at his tea. He was quiet for a long time as James enjoyed his own drink without hesitation, turning his head back and forth slowly. They had taken a seat on a bench just off to the side of the pathway, so they could both see the aliens and humans walking by, shopping or just enjoying their day. James was enjoying it, that was for sure. It had been simple and predictable, but even following his list had been a good idea.

First he and Keith walked the full length of the booth street. No cars or vehicles drove on the street, because it was lined with booths and stands of food and useless junk, knickknacks from both earth and alien planets. It was remarkable to watch, how Keith could easily converse with the alien refugees, but at the same time had issues communicating with the other people from earth. As if he felt more at home talking to races he wasn't part of.

It was sad that he felt so out of place there, on the planet where he was born, and more at home with aliens who had purple skin, or eyebrows that grew out above their temples and twitched like antennae. James hoped that, maybe with his influence, and the influence of acceptance at the Garrison, that Keith could start to feel more open and at home there.

"Hey," the silence was broken by Keith, who was mixing the tea he had yet to taste with his straw, "Can I... maybe ask you something?"

James shrugged, "Sure."

"... why'd you ask me out?" Keith held the cup in both his hands, propping it against his knees and staring down, "Are you trying to make up for something? Or did someone set you up?"

"What? No, jeeze, what kind of asshole do you think I am?" James questioned with a huff, tensing and looking away, "I asked you out because I wanted to."

"What for?" Keith questioned again, and James sighed heavily, leaning back.

"Jeeze, do I need a reason?"

Keith's shoulders seemed to sag, "Guess I was hoping you did. I mean, I haven't really been out of the Garrison much aside from before when we went on missions, and the medics haven't even cleared me for active duty, so I figured getting out and walking around would be the best I can get until I'm allowed to fly again," he set the cup down on the bench beside him, "Sorry, I guess maybe I took advantage of you, but if this didn't mean anything I shouldn't feel as bad," James opened his mouth as if to speak, but Keith beat him to it, shoulders hunching, "Weird, though, because I do still feel bad. So... sorry."

"I asked you out because I like you, Keith," James said stiffly, "We just won a three year war that killed a third of the population, a war that almost fucking killed you, and me, and a lot of other people, so fuck it. You know what, I asked you out because I like you and I've liked you since high school, okay? I've liked you for years, even when you punched me, and I figured this was my last chance to tell you. I thought I lost my chance when you left the Garrison and disappeared into space, then again when you and your lion fell and... I thought you were dead for a while until Shirogane told us everyone was okay. So I figured this was my last chance. I didn't ask you out from pity, or because you're some hot shot and I was trying to weasel my way into your life for status, or whatever else you may assume. I liked you when you were an obnoxious punk ass brat who couldn't follow rules for shit, and now that you're back, even though you've actually changed a lot, I still like you. Okay? There, I said it."

He folded his arms, a slight scowl on his lips. It was remarkable, honestly, how easy it was to actually get the words out once he'd started. It was like another challenge against Keith, who could confess first. Not that Keith felt any similar feelings, clearly he only agreed to go out with James because he wasn't medically allowed to do much else. Still, that just made James worry more.

"Are you feeling okay?" he tested, and Keith hesitated, "I mean, are you hurting at all? We've been walking around a lot, and I... guess I got so excited I forgot you were only recently let out of the hospital."

"I feel fine," Keith said, lifting a hand to rub at his head, "I, um... I never knew you felt that way."

"Well, I never told you," James mumbled, arms still folded, head bowed and knee bouncing, "Honestly, back then, what would you even have said?"

"Good point," Keith said softly, "I would've just gotten mad at you, more likely than not. I would've thought you were lying or making fun of me or something."

"Yea... and what about now?"

Keith pulled at the edges of his gloves, "I still sort of think you're lying or at least crazy, but... you've changed too. I don't think you'd make light of this kind of thing, especially after a war. Which means... you're probably being truthful in saying you like me, but it's still kind of hard to grasp."

"You don't think you're likable?"

"Not really," Keith sighed out, reaching over to pick up his tea again, stabbing the straw against the bottom of it with hollow thudding sounds, "I mean, no one really seemed to like me before. Then again I never did try to impress anyone back then... and you still liked me anyway, huh?"

"Yea, I guess I did, and still do," James leaned back, head tilting to look up at the sky, "Quite the mess of a crush, I certainly know how to pick 'em."

Keith snorted, holding the cup higher, keeping his head bowed, clinging to the sides of the to-go cup so tightly that drops of condensation dripped down the backs of his fingers. He was silent for a long time, just sitting there, lost in thought before finding the words and opening his mouth.

"I never thought about... having a relationship before. I was sort of busy surviving on my own, but... this was really fun, today. Getting out of the Garrison, talking to familiar faces, seeing your reaction when you ate that food," one corner of his lips curled up, "I guess it was kind of cute. So..."

"So...," James' voice cracked subtly, and he lifted a fist and coughed into it, "I wasn't cute."

"So maybe this would be nice to try," Keith finished, sitting straighter, and James could almost feel the way his mood changed from shy and cautious to tight and determined, that aura he used to echo when he was younger and ready for a fight, "This with us, whatever it is, I want to try it."

"So... that means you like me back or..."

Keith tensed again, lips pressing into a tight line, "I... don't know. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like to... like someone... but I'm having fun, and I don't really feel pressured, and it's easy to be myself around you, so... if I don't like you, why do I feel so comfortable?"

"Pain meds?" James offered, and Keith swayed to the side with a roll of his eyes.

"Just take the fucking compliment, ass."

"Drink your fucking tea already."

James didn't know why he felt so happy. He didn't expect Keith to flat out confess to him, or accept his feelings right away, but the fact he actually wanted to try and maintain this relationship said a lot. He liked James enough to try, and that was so much more than James had ever expected. It made him happy.

"So... um...," James looked over at Keith again to see him hunched over, one hand clinging to his cup, his other arm wrapped around his chest to cling to his upper arm, "I guess... step one of this is being honest about stuff?"

"Sure, I guess. Why?"

"I, uh... kind of lied?" Keith's voice choked a little, and he cleared his throat, "I actually don't feel that great right now. Walking around all day, my head kind of hurts. I'm okay, just sore."

"Oh," James breathed, "I'm sorry, I should've noticed something was up. We should head back to the Garrison so you can rest."

"We still have a few hours of sunlight left, don't we?" Keith asked, sitting straighter again, "I can handle a tiny headache, so I want to spend some more time just with you."

James felt his cheeks burn, but he just smiled crookedly, "Sure... but let's sit here until you're feeling a bit better. Seriously, drink," he waved at the cup, "It's good, and it's healthy. Try it."

Keith huffed through his nose and nodded, lifting the cup, "So I guess this means we're officially dating, right?"

James choked on his own tea, but nodded furiously like it was the best idea he'd ever heard, "Yea, yea! We can come back to Plaht on our days off whenever you're feeling okay, and if you're feeling kind of sick, we can just stay at the Garrison. I'll fill you in on the years you missed."

"Yea, I'd like to hear it," Keith agreed, taking a sip of tea as James continued to talk.

"Cool then, I'll tell you about the MFE's, and how I completely obliterated all your sim scores, and-," he paused when Keith jerked forward, pulling the cup away and slapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

James immediately reached over to grab his shoulder and steady him, "Hey, easy. What happened, did you drink too fast? Are you choking?"

Keith just turned to face James, gaping at him with wide eyes, slowly pulling his hand away and opening his mouth to let small black pearl shaped spheres fall out. Then he looked at the cup of tea, and James snorted, leaning back with a gut busting laugh.

"What the fuck...?"

"Keith oh my god!"

"What the fuck was that? Why is there a solid in my fucking liquid?"

"I-it's bubble tea!" James reached over to settle his hands over Keith's, "Those are tapioca pearls! They're good!"

"The fuck kind of tea did you just give me?!"

"Isn't it good, though?!"

"I don't know!"

The rest of the day was slow and peaceful, relaxing in the best way. They walked from bench to bench, buying drinks and snacks. James kept a close eye on Keith as they walked, making a note of his body language and the way he walked. Whenever it seemed like he was slowing or staggering his pace, James suggested they sit down, picking up food and water, at one point picking up something that the alien called a healing herb which he boiled in water and offered to James. When he mentioned it was for Keith, the alien excitedly shoved the cup into his hands.

"It's free! Anything to help the paladin's of Voltron!"

James took that as a good thing, and forced Keith to drink every drop, despite the cringe on his face, "This tastes like shit. I prefer the bubble tea."

"Shut up and drink, it's supposed to help."

Keith mumbled and clung to the cup with both hands, hiding the red tint to his cheeks by burying his face in the rising steam. He wasn't used to being cared for like this by anyone aside from Krolia, so it was somewhat overwhelming, and embarrassing. It definitely showed how much he cared, though. He certainly hadn't been lying about his crush, if his actions meant anything.

"Why are you making me drink gross medicine anyway?"

"I just don't want you to be uncomfortable or in pain."

Yea, Keith figured he'd say that, but he wanted to hear it for himself either way. It made it easier to stomach the bitter flavor. He didn't want to worry James any more than he already had, after all.

They decided to head back home when the sun finally started to settle in the distance. Keith was wobbling on his feet but trying to hide it, so James shed his own coat and draped it around the paladin's shoulders on their way back to the hoverbike.

"I'll drive us back," he decided, not leaving any room for argument as he held his hand out for the keys, which Keith sleepily offered to him, "Hold onto me, okay? Try not to fall asleep or fall off."

Unlike James, who'd been uneasy about clinging to Keith while riding, Keith wound his arms unabashedly around James' waist, hiding his face between his shoulder blades and mumbling a thank you before the engine started. James concentrated as well as he could on the road despite having Keith's arms around him, and when they got home, he had to help Keith off the bike, seeing as he was falling asleep where he sat.

"Geeze you're losing energy pretty fast."

"I'm fine," Keith rubbed at his eyes, but James stayed close to him.

"Need help getting back to your dorm?"

"Hm... I should say yes, shouldn't I?"

"Unless you wanna fall asleep on the way there? Probably."

"Mm, fine."

"Come on," James stepped in front of Keith and crouched down, waiting for Keith to fall against him before standing up, hooking his arms under Keith's knees to keep him steady, "Hold onto me, don't fall off."

"Right," Keith agreed, arms wrapping around James' neck, silent as they walked towards the Garrison.

It was dark out, everyone was either sleeping or tucked into their dorms, so there was no one in the hallways as James carried Keith towards his dorm room. They were both relatively silent, until Keith tugged on his sleeve.

"James."

"Huh?"

"Thanks," James tensed and paused in his steps, so Keith continued quickly, "I mean... I never thought I'd miss earth before, and I didn't miss earth, I really didn't. I didn't even plan on ever coming back, I had nothing here to come back to. I found my mom in space, I found another home with the blades, and the paladins didn't need me for a long time, until...," he stopped, hesitating, squeezing James around the shoulders, "This was a really fun day, though. Having an earth date with you... was fun. I'd like to go on another with you sometime. I want more reasons to stay on earth."

James chewed the inside of his cheek, nodding and continuing to walk, "Sounds fun, but before that, take care of yourself. Sleep, recover. It's like you're suffering from hypersomnia, with how tired you keep getting and how quickly. Promise you'll take a day off, yea? Just to sleep."

Keith seemed to consider it before nodding against James' neck, "Okay. Only if you buy me more of that tea."

James snorted, "Is that all you want?"

"Yea. I liked it. It's weird, but not bad."

"Okay then," James chuckled, "I'll get you more tea. All the tea you want," Keith's breathing had evened out, signalling he'd fallen asleep, and James smiled softly to himself, "I'll take care of you however I can. If buying tea is what helps, I'll do it. Sleep well."


	4. Getaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sept. 13: HOVERBIKE
> 
> Soft hoverbike date, short but i'm tired bye.

It had become somewhat of a ritual for them after the war, to run off when the stress of leadership got to be too much. Most of the time they could deal with their workload and training, because they were used to it, because they had to be used to it, but there were still times when they found themselves fraying emotionally at the edges, where they needed to either had to be alone with just each other, or blow some steam away from the Garrison where their reputations wouldn't be tarnished.

Their reputations were certainly something they never realized they'd have to protect before, but the Garrison, and Voltron, had become the figureheads of the Intergalactic Alliance, and they were both important leaders within the alliance. Keith was the head of Voltron, his job was to defend the universe from any and all threats, while maintaining discipline and calm under pressure, which was tough in its own right, and not something he was used to.

He needed to show a certain amount of peace keeping ability and maturity under pressure in order to maintain a positive relationship throughout the alliance. Then there was James, who lead the MFE Aries fighter pilot squadron, which was considered the most elite and honored faction in the Garrison, aside from the crew of the Atlas. It was easier for him to stay in line and keep order, since he'd never had much issue with authority in the first place (unlike Keith). That didn't mean he couldn't get stressed out.

When that did happen, they would wait till it was later in the day when their work was done, and find the best opportunity to sneak out before anyone else could find them, meet out in the garage, and take a hoverbike. Keith was lucky to have his own bike, colored red and brought onto Garrison grounds a little after the war had ended. It had been his during the time he'd been expelled and was living out in the desert, and honestly it had been a miracle to have not been destroyed during the three year invasion, but Keith was pleased to have it and took good care of it.

It was the only one he had, and it wasn't like there were other bikes to spare, so James normally shared the seat with Keith, who drove them. Sure, if James asked, the Garrison would probably give him clearance to take one of the other hoverbikes, but he took it as a special opportunity to be able to hug Keith when they shared one bike. Their relationship was young, they didn't do much in terms of physical affection like hold hands since it had only been a few weeks since they'd started dating, so the excuse to sit behind Keith, chest to his back, arms wrapped tightly and securely around his waist and chest, was an excuse he gladly accepted.

They would drive as far as they dared, to the middle of the desert at least, parking at the edge of a cliff so high that they could see the Garrison buildings located far in the distance. Then they would sit leaning up against the hoverbike. Sometimes James would be the one leaning against the hoverbike, while Keith would flop against him, lying his head against James' shoulder.

The first time he did that, James was tense and uncertain, worried that any wrong move would send Keith scrambling away, but the second time, James was calmer, reaching over to play idly with Keith's black hair until he'd fallen asleep. It wasn't until the fifth time that he'd dared to reach an arm around his shoulders, holding the Black Paladin under his arm and securely against his side.

It made him proud that Keith was growing to trust him enough to show vulnerability like this, and took every chance he was given to hold the paladin. Each and every time, Keith didn't even attempt to pull away, just shifted to lean closer, and James grew bolder with each special hoverbike ride they spent together.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked during their trip, sitting on a cliff overlooking the desert, but he was curious, "Why don't you ever do this when we're at the Garrison?" he was twisting a lock of Keith's hair between his fingers, "Cuddle up to me I mean."

Keith tensed a bit, but answered, "Not used to it," he mumbled, "It's easier when it's just you. Plus, there's too much to focus on and worry about when I'm working. No time."

James hummed, and yes he was pouting, raking his fingers through his boyfriends hair and cradling his head to his shoulder, "It would be cute, you know? If you'd walk up and hug me unbidden now and then. Maybe hold my hand. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it would be nice."

Keith furrowed his brow, then squinted, "I'm not an idiot, and you're not the asshole you used to be, you're not the kind of person who would push me out of my comfort zone for something selfish, so I can tell you're teasing me, but it's still annoying."

"Sorry, sorry," James hugged Keith tighter, "I am teasing you. Who knows what would happen within the Garrison if our relationship were to come out? There's still a lot at stake, with the alliance and cleaning up from the three years we were at war. Iverson expects all of us to be entirely focused on the job, on our work as pilots."

"Yea...," Keith drew the word out somewhat suspiciously, "If he learned we were neglecting our duties to run off together day after day... he'd get really annoyed. Say we were distracted and breaking the rules."

Now it was James' turn to squint, "I know that tone, and don't you dare try anything just because you're bored."

"If I do, just remember you're the one who gave me ideas," Keith promised, leaning forward and turning to the side before flopping onto his back, using James' lap as a pillow and folding his arms over his stomach.

It was another first, another crack forming in the concrete walls around Keith, big enough that James didn't have to look too hard to see what was beneath, the vulnerability and the show of trust. His eyes were closed, black hair fanned out on James' lap, and the MFE pilot stared down at him blankly. He wasn't sure how to respond at first, until he decided to reach down and set a hand back into Keith's hair.

"I guess I like this better anyway," James decided, brushing aside Keith's bangs to see his face better, a thumb tracing along a scar that edged just at his hairline, hidden most of the time, left over from the last fight against Sendak's armada and the Altean mecha, "Being the only one to see you like this, I mean. Makes me feel special. I like doing this, taking breaks from work to ride a hoverbike into the middle of absolute nowhere."

Keith rolled his head to the side, opening his eyes to stare out across the desert from the cliff, "I grew up out here... the middle of nowhere. It's peaceful, no one bothers you, no headaches, no stress of leadership or anything like it. Just us."

"Yea, it really is peaceful. We should take trips like this more often," James decided, "Any spare chance we get, let's get out of the Garrison just to be alone."

"Hm," Keith's eyes were closed again, "Maybe if it gets too stressful, we can just run away together," he offered, and there was teasing in his voice, but there was also a tone of genuine interest in the idea of running away, "We can travel the Earth, and if we get too bored with it, we can travel space. I'll take you to Olkarion, Feyiv, the space mall, and wherever else you want to go."

"You really wanna run away? Again?"

Keith seemed to consider it before answering, "The first time I ran was because I had nothing left for me here. Now... it's not like I want to, not forever, but to get away, a vacation... I'll run away if it's with you. We've got a hoverbike, we could go anywhere."

There was hesitance in his voice, James could sense uncertainty and uneasiness, that Keith really did consider running away. It worried him, but James felt reassured in the fact that while Keith seemed insecure enough to want to run, he was attached to James enough now that he wouldn't run without him. Maybe his care for James would keep him from running entirely.

James leaned over Keith, wrapping one arm under his shoulders and reaching his other hand over to settle on top of where Keith's were folded together on his stomach, lying his forehead against Keith's.

"Then, how about we just stay here for now. I know you're nervous about being back in the Garrison, about the people who used to question you, and that it would be a lot easier to run away together, which honestly sounds like it could be fun someday. Just not today. I'll be right here for you, if you ever feel like running away then let's just run away here, take the hoverbike and drive into the desert until we can't see the Garrison. Let's fight next to each other, lets be everything we can be together, and more. Even if things get stressful, I've got your back. Okay?"

James was expecting either silence or an okay, he was not expecting Keith to reach up and grab his nose, twisting it painfully enough for James to jerk back with a groan, slapping a hand over his nose.

"Hey!"

"I didn't say I was gonna ditch, I was just joking," Keith revealed, looking bored and unimpressed, but rolled onto his side with his arms folded and his head still on James' lap before he could see the other pilot blush in embarrassment, "Jeeze, I already know you're going to be here for me. Same to you. Let's just enjoy the sunset before you say something else weird."

"Gee, thanks."


	5. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sept. 14: SHIRO
> 
> Hey this is a day late my apologies! Originally I was going to write with Kosmo, but again I wanted to do something a little bit different. Most of the fics with Shiro in it are all angst and pining and unrequited, but I wanted to show a different side to it. One where Shiro is happy for Keith and proud of him for opening up to someone who cares about him. Enjoy!

There were a lot of things that Shiro had in common with Keith. They both liked peace and quiet, they both woke up early, they both worked out to relieve stress, and both of them were phenomenal pilots. More than that, not just pilots who enjoyed flying, but who loved the sky, the air, the stars and the cosmos, and having that connection and deep understanding of one another was why they made such good friends.

In addition, there was something that Shiro had only just realized about Keith, yet another characteristic they shared. Shiro himself was not remarkably capable at dealing with his own romantic relationships. All exploits in the division of love tended to either end badly, or never even got off the ground because of his self doubt and lack of confidence in regards to his own worth and ability to maintain something even remotely romantic.

Keith, he'd always been one who seemed socially depraved. He'd never been good at talking to people, never been good at maintaining any relationship, never mind a romantic one. As a kid his biggest concern was surviving, and after being drawn up into space and thrown into the middle of a thousand year old space war, that survival instinct had become more refined, and had increased ten fold.

There was more to worry about now, especially considering that Keith was the head of Voltron. He had heavy responsibility on his shoulders, and as a leader, he had to concentrate on a lot more than working on just his social skills. Still, ever since they'd become paladins, Shiro had witnessed Keith opening up a tiny bit every day, becoming more comfortable around their team and their Altean allies, talking more, even joking around and showing a bit of his goofier side, which only Shiro was privy to in the past; before Kerberos.

After meeting his mother, Keith had returned even more open than before. He was calmer, more level headed, more mature, grown into himself. He got along with the paladins more so now than he ever had before, even with Lance, especially with Hunk. Shiro was proud of him, but it was being witness to the younger man's heart opening, not just his mind, that really made Shiro proud.

At first he didn't pick up on it, there was a lot to do that took his time and attention after all, and even when he did start noticing, it still flew over his head completely, because it was James. He was the last person Shiro expected to see Keith getting close to, especially after their tense relationship as cadets. Things had certainly changed since the war, that was blatantly clear, but it still took Shiro some time to see the signs.

Keith wasn't as tense when he was around James, hearing the MFE pilot call out in greeting from down the hall was enough for him to unwind from his usually tight and cautious posture. He was always standing close to James, and the two of them seemed to gravitate towards each other like dark stars, barely noticeable unless you already knew it was there. Even if they were on other sides of the room, they somehow ended up next to each other.

Standing or sitting near each other, as the seconds would pass by, they would lean closer to one another, until Keith was using James as a wall to lean against, arms crossed, or James had an elbow propped somewhat smugly on Keith's shoulder. They weren't exactly subtle, but they weren't showing off whatever their relationship was either. Publicly, their interactions were polite and friendly, so Shiro saw the signs, but translated them incorrectly, assumed that friends were all they were.

Until he was walking down the hall towards a meeting room, passing a hall to the left but pausing in his steps when his body seemed to have recognized people down the hall. When his mind caught up, he took a step back and peered around the corner of the wall to see it was Keith and James, standing at the window and looking outside down at the courtyard.

Keith's arms were folded, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to the window, and James was sitting on the window frame, legs stretched out and hands in his pockets, head tilted back against the glass. They hadn't noticed Shiro there yet, so he stayed where he was hiding behind corner of the hall, watching curiously.

"Peace keeping within the colonies around the Garrison and liberation around the Earth," James was muttering, eyes closed and brow drawn somewhat in irritation, "Back and forth trying to clean up rogue sentries, drones, and even Galra officers left on the surface. Mainly they've all converged into what's left of the facilities and worker camps, but it's annoying."

"Yea," Keith agreed, head tilting, "There are innocent people getting stuck in the crossfires of us trying to get rid of what's left of Sendak's militia. That's not including the occasional issues that pop up within the colonies here. It'd good we can manage it since they're in Plaht, but it's tedious to fly over when some alien is having a disagreement with a human."

"The little stuff is what's getting to you," James noted, "You can deal with a war, but after the fact, the tiny things building up are just stressing you out."

"Don't mention stupid shit like that unless you can fix it," Keith said with a slight scowl, and James opened his eyes, sitting straighter and reaching over to tap Keith's elbow with the backs of his fingers.

"Come here for a second."

Keith narrowed his eyes, but after a long minute of just staring, he pushed away from the wall and unfolded his arms, standing in front of James, who reached up to Keith's elbows and tugged him closer, until he could bury his face in Keith's stomach while Keith wrapped an arm around James' neck, one hand on his shoulder.

"Is this your version of fixing my stress?"

"Depends, is it working?"

"No."

"Then maybe I just wanted to hug you."

Keith sighed in annoyance, but he made no move to pull away as he shifted positions to get more comfortable. One leg positioned between James', the other propped against the window frame, one arm folded on top of his head and chin sitting against his forearm.

"You're too tense," James noted, playing with the back of Keith's uniform, "You should let off some steam before you snap during a meeting or something, where you can actually get in trouble."

"You suggesting I beat your ass in a spar?"

"You'd annihilate me then get even more stressed out, so no," James snorted, "No way I'm sparring you when you're cranky."

"I'm not cranky."

"Uh-huh, says the one pulling my hair."

"Oh, sorry," Keith pulled his hand away before returning it to the back of James' head, running his fingers through the shorter undercut at the back, "That doesn't prove anything though, I'm not cranky."

"Sure, baby," James moved his hands from the back of Keith's shirt to his hips, pushing him back a little to look up at him, "Is anyone expecting you for the rest of the day?"

"No, my schedule is clear. Mom wanted me to rest."

"Still getting headaches?" James frowned when he asked, and Keith shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly.

"The doctor said I hit it pretty hard when I crashed in the Black Lion. He mentioned the pain might be more psychological than physical. Almost like I can still feel phantom pain despite the injury being healed."

"And they're sure it's nothing serious? The headaches have been bothering you for a while now, I'm a bit skeptical about passing it off as you being a hypochondriac. No offense to the doctors."

"Kolivan doesn't trust them either," Keith admitted with a roll of his eyes, "but yea, I'm pretty sure I'm fine."

"Hm. Let's go for a ride then," James said, "Just ride into the desert for the day, get rid of the stress. I can't imagine the stress is making your head any better."

"My schedule might be clear, but what about you? Can you ditch like that?"

"The MFE's are getting some weekly maintenance, my squadron is either relaxing or training in their free time. They were so distracted they didn't even notice me sneaking out to meet you."

Keith was silent in response, looking off to the side in thought, before looking down at James, "Sure. Why not? Might be nice."

"Wow, you actually agreed," James sighed out as he stood up, "For a second I expected you to say no because it's completely within the rules to take a day to ourselves."

Keith immediately squinted, "You're saying you don't think I'd willingly go out with you unless it was breaking the rules? You know I'm a lot more mature than I used to be, right?" he folded his arms, "While I'm not against doing things against the rules, I'm not as bad as I used to be."

"Yea, yea, I know," James looped an arm around Keith's neck to draw him closer so their foreheads were touching, "Let's just go before someone decides to give us work."

Shiro scrambled over to another corner and ducked behind it before the two could see him, peering around the corner to watch them leave in the opposite direction. Who could have guessed those two would end up together? Shiro was wary, because of the walls that Keith always had up, worried that they'd never come down long enough for romance, but it seemed they were starting to crumble, around James at least.

And it seemed that James cared enough not to take advantage of that, either.

Shiro just smiled and leaned his back against the wall to watch the two of them leave. He was proud, really proud. Proud of Keith for taking a chance on love, proud of James for treating Keith with respect. Just from that short display, it was obvious James really cared for Keith, especially in his prodding of Keith's headaches (which Shiro was remiss to admit he hadn't known about until now).

He trusted James, and of course he trusted Keith. He was happy and proud of them both, and certainly looked forward to the day when they revealed their relationship with the rest of the MFE fighters and paladins. Shiro snickered a bit, turning to continue on towards the council room, making a silent decision that if anyone asks, he had absolutely no idea where James or Keith were, so if some mission came up out of the blue that called for their attention, it would have to be dealt with by other people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick extra note, the whole headache thing, I wanted this fic to be fluffy, but I have a thing for adding random bits of angst. Aka, injured or slightly injured Person A is pampered by overprotective Person B. Head wounds are very unpredictable, and so are concussions. If a head injury continues to hurt after healing, it could be a bad sign. So feel free to interpret this however you wish~


	6. I Choose you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sept. 15: PINING/UNREQUITED/MUTUAL
> 
> PLEASE BE AWARE THAT LANCE IN THIS FIC IS OOC AND I WROTE HIM LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE PURELY OUT OF SPITE.  
> I decided to incorporate all three prompts into this, so enjoy! And if you have a problem with how I wrote Lance, I'm not sorry, bye.

James was a confident person, he knew his own worth. He knew he was one of the best pilots at the Garrison, aside from Shiro and Keith, and he knew that on paper, academically, he was a genius. He'd never had any self doubt, he never questioned himself, with everything he was faced with, he approached and dealt with the situations with determination and an inner strength fueled by self confidence.

In the face of this, however, the toxic emotions of self doubt and anxiety poisoned him. He hated this feeling, his palms sweating and a voice in his head that never used to be there, telling him to stop trying, to not bother. There was no way it would ever work out between them, after the long and bumpy relationship they'd had before? After what James had said, all those times he'd looked down on Keith and treated him so cruelly when they were kids... it was a stupid crush, and one that would never get anywhere.

Sometimes there were times when James thought he'd have a chance. Moments where he and Keith talked together about leading their teams, discussing missions, even sharing quips and jokes with each other, heavy with sass, sarcasm, and a healthy dose of dark humor. Something the two of them understood and responded to with snickers, while many of the people around them just watched them with concern.

When they were alone, when they really took the time to talk to each other, James honestly felt as if there was something between them, some miraculous spark that could lead to something more. Requited feelings, confessions, a relationship inspired by pure love and mutual respect. It was a false hope, clearly. All the partial smiles on Keith's lips when he looked at James, all those times he went up to James first and asked him to spar or partner with him in the simulations, even that time he asked James to give him a tour of his MFE fighter, were all just friendly encounters and formality, nothing more.

That became obvious the stronger James' affections became. Every day he fell harder and harder. Every time he sparred with Keith and got pinned by him, and every time he managed to pin Keith. Every meeting, every moment in passing where they greeted each other, James noticed Keith smiled a little wider each time, and it just made things worse.

But it wasn't going to happen, as much as he wanted it to. Keith smiled at him sometimes, fine, but he always appeared to be truly himself when he was with the paladins alone. More than that, when he was with Lance.

The interactions between the black and red paladins were decisively cordial. They trained flawlessly alongside each other, Lance followed Keith's lead without question, and when they did argue, it came off as good natured and familiar. James noticed it immediately, the way that Lance looked at Keith when the other paladin had turned his attention elsewhere.

The soft upturn of his lips, the half closed eyes as he looked at Keith as if he were the only person in the world, like no other human could be as beautiful. Lance touched Keith a lot, it was subtle, a hand on his elbow or his back, normally veiled by the thick paladin armor, so Keith probably didn't even feel it.

It was obvious how Lance felt about him, though, because the way he looked at Keith was the same way James did. Which made things complicated, because between him, the bratty kid who used to fight with Keith and even made the immature decision to bring up the parents that Keith didn't even have, and the Red Paladin who had sniper skills to rival Ryan Kinkade and even the status of a hero earned from his hard work and sacrifice fighting Sendak in the final battle of the war.

James couldn't even compare to that when all he was was an MFE cadet pilot who hadn't even graduated or been uniformed. The title of officer that they'd given he and his squadron was barely a formality because of the war. It had no merits when the war had ended and he still pulled on an orange uniform every morning.

He couldn't compete with Lance, so he had to hold in all his feelings and just watch from the sidelines, try not to let it shatter his heart whenever he saw them together. All James wanted was for Keith to be happy, and if being with Lance accomplished that, then fine. Keith deserved it, being happy. Above everyone else, Keith deserved everything.

The only time James ever felt like interfering in their relationship was one day in the training room. The MFE pilots, paladins, and a dozen other resistance members like Matt Holt, had converged in the big room to train and work out. Keith was sitting on a bench off to the side, having just finished a spar with Matt. It was hard for James to look away, keeping his eyes on the punching bag hanging by a chain, though he kept watching the paladin from the very corners of his eyes.

His black hair was tied back, pushed away from his face, which was beaded with sweat that he wiped away using a towel he had hanging around his neck, unwrapping the bandages around his hands and knuckles before rewrapping them more securely. He was dressed in a sleeveless shirt that showed off his impressive arms, and James was almost too distracted to concentrate on his own sets.

The Lance appeared, dressing in similar clothing but with a headband holding his hair out of his eyes, and similar bands around both wrists. He dropped down next to Keith on the bench, and Keith paused in what he'd been doing to glance over at him.

"Wow, who knew working out with old classmates would suck this much?" Lance sighed out, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands, "I miss paladin training where I could use my bayard."

Keith just hummed and looked back at his hands, "It's important to know basic self defense, Lance. What if you ended up stuck somewhere without your bayard? You can only do so much with it. You need to know how to defend yourself."

Lance tilted his head with a smile, "I appreciate the concern, especially coming from you," then rolled his head to the other side when Keith looked at him again, hiding the red on his cheeks and the wide eyes like he'd just realized how dumb that sounded.

"Why wouldn't I be concerned?" Keith asked, sitting straighter and folding his arms, "Shiro is too. You, Hunk, and Pidge need to train more at hand to hand combat. Allura I'm not worried about, and Pidge has been training with Matt so she's got a good grasp on things, in addition to their bayards being generally close range weapons. You and Hunk are used to fighting from a distance and using your gun-skills to your advantage against more skilled opponents, but that won't always be the case."

Lance had turned his head back to Keith and now wore a deflated pout and squinted eyes, as if Keith's words had been the exact opposite of what he'd been expecting, "I thought Allura was the naggy lecturing paladin in the group," he drawled, and Keith glared at him before securing the last bandage.

"Quit complaining about training if you don't like it. Just get to work," he stood up, and Lance leaned forward, hands against his knees.

"Are you busy after this?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue, and Keith stayed standing where he was, staring blankly across the room.

"Why?"

"Just wondering. I'm free after training, so I was wondering if you wanted to go out? You know, check out how Plaht is doing, get out of the Garrison for a few hours. Maybe get something to eat?"

Keith seemed to tense at the question, "Sorry, no," he said, leaning down to pick his bag up and hanging it over his shoulder, "I just remembered I was supposed to meet my mom and Kolivan for something. Keep training, don't slack. See you."

"Oh, okay," Lance waved at Keith as he strode quickly towards the door.

It was probably just a coincidence it was closer to the hanging punching bags, probably just coincidence that Keith and James looked up at the same time, eyes catching before Keith tore his away and exited the training arena. James watched after him, fists still raised in preperation for another punch, one he nearly sent into Lance's face when the red paladin popped up out of nowhere and leaned against the punching bag.

"Hey man," he greeted, and James jerked to the front as he punched forward.

Lance ducked out of the way and James' fist hit the solid surface of the bag, hissing and shaking his hand out as Lance stood back up, hands on his head.

"You could've just said hi back!"

"Don't just sneak up on me like that!" James yelled back, "Idiot!"

"Hmph," Lance stood straighter and dropped his hands from his head, "Well maybe if you weren't staring at Keith you would've heard me coming."

James tensed, hands still raised and curling into tighter fists, "What are you talking about?"

Lance shrugged, waving a hand as he side stepped out of the way so James could continue his sets, "I'm not an idiot, I notice things, and I've noticed how much you watch Keith. Seems kind of... I don't know, shallow to me."

James' fist hit the bag with a cracking sound, grinding his teeth before flashing his eyes to Lance, "Excuse me?"

"You never liked him before, in case you've forgotten," Lance jabbed a thumb against his own chest, "I was there when you harassed him for being an orphan, you were nothing but cruel, and suddenly he comes back better than ever so you think you have a right to ogle him like meat? That's my team leader, just so you're aware, and I'm not excited about you eye fucking him."

James turned his head fully to completely glare at the other cadet, "I'm going to say this once, and I'm going to say this slowly. I did not harass him for being an orphan. Yes, I made a misplaced quip about his parents, but it wasn't with the intention to hurt him," he took a half step back and turned his attention back to the punching bag, "and for your information, he was just as good before. Better than ever... did you even look at him in the past? Or are you just interested in him now that he's your beloved team leader?" he punched once, hard, enough to make an echoing banging sound that hollowed against the material of the bag, "And I'm the shallow one?"

Lance bristled, dropping his arms but pointing at James, "Look, you've got no idea what we've been through together, what we endured up there. We bonded out there, we grew together as people, we have a bond. I get you're interested, but don't try anything."

James snorted, leaning his shoulder against his punching bag, "You're hilarious. As if you could beat me in a spar at all."

"I'm just trying to save you from grief," Lance defended, his lips still twisted into something that looked like a pout, "You don't have a chance. Keith would never like someone like you. So come to terms with that and stop staring at him before someone else notices."

James just glared at Lance as he turned and walked away, over to where Hunk was across the room. All of that seemed out of place, uncharacteristic to Lance, as if he'd been pushed right to the edge of his own sanity before getting punted off like a football. War certainly did crazy things to your mind, but it didn't make James feel much better.

He was done training, didn't want another run in like that with Lance, so he grabbed his things and left, headed for the showers to wash his sweat and anger, and heartbreak, down the drain. He already knew Keith would never like him like that, he'd already come to terms with it, but hearing someone else say it... it was too much.

James didn't join his squadron at the mess hall that night, didn't eat dinner and didn't visit the rec room to relax with his team either. He stayed in his dorm, curled onto his side and glaring at the wall, arms wrapped around himself and nails biting into the skin of his upper arms. Part of him almost decided to join his friends, but nine times out of ten Veronica was there with them, and she was Lance's sister, so James didn't want to risk any kind of confrontation with her and her family.

It was dark by the time he moved, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed before leaning down, reaching under the bed and pulling out a box he had there, popping it open before lifting out an old highschool yearbook.

This was so stupid, the fact he'd kept this old thing, but couldn't stop himself from flipping through it to the back where group pictures from daily school life were. There were a couple with him in them, a few where he was with Ina, but the one at the back was what he always flipped to in the end. One where he's outside with a soccer ball in his hands, and Keith is standing in front of him. Both are looking at the camera, James is smiling, Keith looks wary.

James vaguely recalled what they had been doing before this picture had been taken, during PE when they were picking teams for soccer. No one had wanted to pick Keith, but James had gone up to him before anyone else could start the game and asked him to join his side. It was a pretty weak offer, but Kieth had agreed.

James threw the book aside and stood up, running his hands over his face before checking the time, after curfew, and leaving his room. He needed fresh air, that was it. It was past curfew, but it would be fine, he was pretty sure, so long as no one caught him.

There was a lookout point on the roof that was surrounded by a railing and was even furnished with benches and a firepit in the middle. Normally the astronomy class used this area for their night classes, but currently it was vacant, so James was alone like he wanted to be as he walked over and leaned against the railing with a slow sigh.

The slight breeze brushed past him, ruffled his hair, and the sensation of cold fingers snaking through his hair distracted him so he didn't hear the footsteps approaching. Didn't know anyone had shown up until they spoke out, called in greeting.

"James, isn't it past curfew?"

James jerked back away from the railing, hands drawing up into fists in defense as he spun on his heel, blinking a few times when the lights on the building silhouetted Keith's form, sending shadows across his face that made him look hauntingly angelic.

"Keith," James breathed his name, relaxing from his defensive position and standing straighter, "Uh, yea. I needed some fresh air is all."

"Hm," Keith stepped down into where the benches and railing were, "Never expected the stickler for the rules to break the rules."

"Hey, it's only like three minutes past, no one ever comes up here after curfew unless there's a class, and there's not. Quit bugging me about it."

Keith shrugged, hands in his pockets, and walked up to stand beside James, looking up at the stars that were nearly invisible from the light pollution behind them, "Didn't see you at dinner."

James blinked and turned his head down to glance at Keith, who wasn't looking towards him, "Wasn't hungry," he lied, looking back at the sky, "Didn't think anyone would care."

Keith shrugged his shoulders again, "Just something I noticed I guess. Are you hungry now?"

"Not really...," James muttered, looking off to the side, "I just wanted some fresh air before going to bed. It's not like I'm sick or anything, just... got a lot on my mind."

"Yea... me too," Keith folded his arms over the railing, dropping his head, "Didn't think I'd see you when I came up here though."

"You come here a lot at night?"

"I guess," Keith lifted a hand to scratch his cheek over the scar there, wincing before rubbing a thumb across it, "It's basically the only place I can be alone at this point."

"Yea. Sorry for being here."

"Nah, it's fine. Not like I hate the company," he dropped his hand from his face, idly rubbing the knuckles of his other hand as a short silence stretched between them, "So... I'm bad at this, so don't judge me, but... like, are you okay or something?"

James turned to look at Keith, confused for the second time, "Huh?"

"I mean... look I'm really bad at talking... just... you don't usually miss dinner, and you're never out past curfew. If you wanted fresh air you could've opened a window, but you broke rules, which you never do, and came outside. It just doesn't seem like something you'd normally do."

"Oh, and you know me so well?" James asked, tensing, and Keith scowled, stepping back.

"I just said I'm bad at this!" he snapped, and James reeled his head at the expression on Keith's face, scowling with red on his cheeks, "I'm trying to be nice!"

"Okay, look, I'm sorry," James insisted, hands raised, turning his head to stare down, "I guess I'm just not used to you being nice either. I'm fine, really. Thanks for worrying."

Keith sighed, shoulders slumping, and stepped back up to the railing, "Sure... but listen, if you need to talk, you know... I'll listen, I guess. Can't guarantee I can help, but... you know."

James felt something warm in his chest at that, staring up at the stars as he pondered Keith's words, before speaking, "Can I ask you something?"

"... sure..."

"If you liked someone, I mean really cared about someone like that, what would you do? Would you tell them? If it seemed like they were already with someone else, would you tell them? If... if you thought, so long as they're happy it's fine, you'll just keep your feelings to yourself?"

"Well, to be honest I've only had maybe one crush in my entire life," Keith admitted, holding his chin and looking off to the side, "Like I said, I'm not good at talking, so... I've kept it to myself."

"Wait, you like someone?" James asked, remembering hours earlier how Keith had anxiously turned Lance down; it made sense now, he just wasn't used to it, so when his crush asked him out, he got nervous.

"What of it?" Keith asked, arms folded defensively, "Doesn't really matter, it won't go anywhere."

"Keith of course it will!" James rushed out, feeling the inexplicable need to reassure him, even though he was ultimately giving up on his own feelings; so long as Keith was happy, "He already asked you out, I get you're bad around people, but you've known Lance forever, and he clearly likes you back! He already asked you out, I overheard it in the training room, he even basically told me that he liked you, so you shouldn't give up so easily-!"

"Whoa!" Keith turned sharply, slapping a hand over James' mouth to shut him up, holding the other hand up with one eyebrow arched into his hairline, a look of disbelief on his face, "I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You think the guy I like is fucking Lance?!"

James blinked, lifting his hands to pry away Keith's, "Wh-? Well yea! The way you act around each other? What else am I supposed to think?" Keith pulled away and ran his hands roughly over his face with a frustrated growl, "What, am I wrong or something?!"

"How are you so smart yet so fucking stupid?!" Keith demanded, and James straightened up as if ready for a fight, until Keith dropped his hands, "Look, Lance is not the person I like. I'm not interested in him romantically at all. No offense to him, he's a good friend and I trust him with my life, but romantically? Ewe, that's like dating my brother," he waved a hand in front of his face, which had paled just at the thought.

"Oh... oh," James gaped at him, "but... he likes you, you know that, right?" Keith seemed to wince, looking away, "... you do know."

"He makes it sort of obvious, but I'm not interested. I like someone else and I have for a while."

"Huh," James held his chin in thought, then looked at Keith, "Hunk?"

"What? No, what is this, twenty-one questions?" Keith rolled his eyes, "Hunk's great, and I'll be the first to admit he's ideal husband material, but no, it's not him," he jabbed a finger into James' chest, "and before you even ask no it's not Shiro either. I love him to death but not like that."

"Ah," James nodded slowly, then turned to stare out over the Garrison, "So... good luck I guess."

"What about you? Who is it you like that's stressing you out so much?"

James just frowned, "Doesn't really matter."

"Is, uh... Kinkade?"

"No."

"Hm," Keith folded his arms over the railing again, "Leifsdottir or Rizavi?"

"No."

"Uh," he twisted his thumbs together, "What about... Veronica...?"

"No."

"Anyone I know?"

"I should hope so."

"Hm."

James looked at Keith from the corner of his eyes, nearly breathless from the strange expression on his face, something open and almost... hopeful? Could that even be possible? Was James willing to risk whatever friendship he had with Keith just based on the fact he didn't like Lance?

"Go ahead."

"What?"

"Ask. I know you want to," James stared at the dark silhouettes of the mountains in the distance, nails again biting into his elbows, "Ask."

Keith was silent for a long time, like he was trying to figure out what James was talking about, before taking a slow inhale, "Is it me?"

Huh, James was actually impressed he'd asked. Unfortunately, James wasn't as brave as Keith was, and ended up not answering, which was the loudest answer he could have given. Then silence fell over them, James was expecting Keith to either scowl and call him gross or just leave. What he was not expecting was the way Keith side stepped closer and dropped his head against James' shoulder.

"Who knew..."

"Don't patronize me-."

"For how long?" Keith asked, and when James didn't answer, he did, "I think it's been since highschool for me."

"What?"

"Yea, pretty stupid. Especially when you factor in the years we didn't even see each other. Makes me hate that saying even more. You know the one, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Yea, I hate that quote."

"Wait, you're saying-?"

"You're the one I like, James," Keith stepped away, "Not Hunk, definitely not Lance," he turned to look at James, hesitation in his eyes, "You."

James' only response was to point to himself like an idiot, and Keith nodded, "So we... you like me, I like you, we like each other...," he held his hands out, "What's step two?"

"Hm," Keith rubbed at his scar again, shrugging, "Wanna go out?"

"Just like that?"

"Yea."

"But... Lance asked you out earlier."

"And I turned him down because I'm not interested in a romantic relationship with him, ever," he looked at James, "The one I want is you, okay? So if you want to keep bringing him up or-."

"Okay," James interrupted, eyes locked on Keith, who turned to him appearing surprised, "Let's go out. Like... let's really go out, start dating. Be my boyfriend."

Keith's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink, quickly turning his head away and rubbing his arm, completely taken by surprise, but nodding his head.

And with all the emotions, the elation and disbelief and joy, running through James, all he could manage to do was grin a goofy grin and say, "Cool."


End file.
